


No Regrets

by InitialA



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adrenaline, Adrenaline sex, Aftercare, Biting, F/M, Fingerfucking, Friends With Benefits, No Strings Attached, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scratching, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InitialA/pseuds/InitialA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were both out of breath. The water beat down on them, rinsing away their blood and sweat, the steam rising around them; it was a moment out of time, a slight pause, a break from the chaos of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place outside of the continuity of my other Steve/Nat fics.

He watched as she touched her cheek, her jaw moving as she checked for breaks. He stripped off his shirt, grimacing at the smoke and faint fumes it was giving off. It was destined for the garbage. “I think he knocked a tooth loose…” Natasha muttered, almost to herself.

“He got you good, Romanoff, if it’s just one you should count yourself lucky,” Steve commented, balling up his shirt and trashing it.

“He’d better hope I’m in a forgiving mood when we find him, or he might be missing more than his arm by the time we’re done.”

His entire body was in pain, he was filthy, he reeked of gunpowder, sweat, and gasoline, and sometime in the last six hours his heart felt like it had been replaced by a block of ice in his chest. “You sound sure we’ll find him,” Steve said.

“I’m trying not to say that he’ll find us first.”

Steve leaned on one arm, looking through the gauzy curtains to the street below. With Bucky— _no_ , the _Winter Soldier_ , the man they had fought earlier that day was _not_ Bucky—retreating first with what was left of his soldiers, they weren’t entirely safe here. His apartment had been vetted, secured, and was watched by SHIELD systems twenty-four-seven, sure, but even with all of that _and_ Natasha’s counter-surveillance as they’d fled the scene he wasn’t off his guard yet; he was sure someone was watching. This was a whole different realm of battle: shadows and spying, attacking when the enemy thought they were safe, when their guard was low. His nerves were singing. “ _Captain!_ ”

Steve looked up, blinking as he came back to the present. Natasha was looking at him with intensity, concerned and searching him over to see if he was alright without having to ask. She was wiping the grime off her face with a damp towel, her jacket was gone; how long had he been staring out the window? “Hit the showers, Cap.”

“You go on, I’m fine.”

“I mean it. You’ll feel human again. You’re in a danger zone: you’re running on adrenaline, your emotions are checked out, you’re going to zero in on things that don’t matter. I need _you_ , Cap, not this,” she gestured to him. “If we’re going to get to him before he gets to us, you need to regroup.”

She sat down on his bed, running the towel along her hair line, finger-combing the snarls out. He saw the movement of her tongue running along her teeth again under her lips and cheek, her gaze focusing on nothing in particular. There were scrapes on her arms, scabs already forming over her cuts, patches of dirt she missed with the towel; her hands were striped with angry-looking red welts. She’d done all the work that afternoon. He’d just fired off a few shots and covered her escapes, and yet she seemed to be holding up remarkably better than he was. He paused in the doorway, and then turned around. Natasha glanced up as he strode over. “Seriously, Rogers, if you’re not going to shower, I will toss you in there myself and turn the water on North Atlantic cold—”

He gripped her shoulders and cut her off with a firm kiss. She didn’t tense or relax, didn’t make a noise; he pulled back after a moment. She held his eyes with her own. “This is what I mean by zeroing in on things that don’t matter,” she said quietly.

“It’s polite to thank someone for saving your life,” Steve said, equally quiet.

“Most people just say ‘thank you’, and then take a shower when they’re ordered to.”

“I’m not most people.”

“I noticed.”

He let her go, and went into the bathroom. He stripped off his undershirt, and undid his belt; he wondered idly, as he stepped out of them and opened the shower door, if his jeans would have to be tossed as well. He turned on the water and let it blast him with icy water. He let his head drop against the wall as the water slowly warmed.

Most people would think that after almost three-quarters of a century, Steve would hate the cold, but it didn’t actually bother him much. And it was helping his head clear. He needed to focus on what mattered: finding the Winter Soldier and neutralizing him before he took SHIELD out single-handedly. He was getting close. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, one that Steve couldn’t shake as he lifted his face up and into the spray. Somewhere under all that metal and psychological conditioning… was his best friend. And he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. _‘I watched him fall hundreds of feet down into that ravine… I saw him die…’_

But he hadn’t seen a body.

And even if they could neutralize the Winter Soldier without killing him, could they even bring Bucky back? Steve drizzled shampoo onto his head and scrubbed at his scalp furiously, trying to distract himself again. He ducked his head under the spray to rinse; a blast of cool air hit his side. He looked up and was pinned against the opposite wall as he heard the shower door close; suds were still on his face, but Natasha didn’t care as she kissed him hard, her body pressed against his, her hands digging into his wet hair. He hurriedly cleared his face when she came up for air. “I thought we weren’t zeroing in on things that didn’t matter.”

“I made a promise to myself, a long time ago. I don’t want to die with any regrets.”

“That’s a cheerful way to get ready for battle.”

“You wanna talk, or do you wanna fuck, Rogers?” She demanded, and wrapped her hand around his dick. “Because I don’t know about you, but I’m more than a little randy from this afternoon and I could use a clear head.”

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, turning to pin her against the wall. “So I’d be a regret, huh?”

Natasha scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re a talker; there are better ways to use your mouth.”

In response, he dipped his head and sucked hard on one of her nipples. She sucked in a breath, arching her back as his tongue swirled around it; he bit down, a bit harder than he meant to. She swore at him and pulled on his hair. “Again.”

He did, and she ran her tongue along the curve of his ear and bit him in response. He shifted her, so she straddled one of his legs, and with the hand not firmly holding her ass he traced her other breast and palmed it, squeezing hard. Her breath was ragged in his ear. Her hand was stroking his cock, her grip tightened when he bit somewhere new: the swell of her breast, her neck, her shoulders, her ears, her lips, her nose. His hand followed the path of the water down her taut stomach; his fingers found her curls. He teased her open, and slid a finger inside her warm, wet cunt. His thumb rubbed against her clit; his hand jerked when she squeezed his cock hard, and bit the sensitive spot where his neck and shoulder met. Her legs shuddered hard around him.

She let go momentarily to thrust his hand away from her cunt, and then moved his cock to her entrance. Their teeth clacked together in the roughness of their kisses. She recrossed her ankles behind his back and pushed him into her; her heel dug into his ass, the rough calluses scraping down a million and a half nerves and still making him buck his hips into her harder. Her nails dug into his back. He cried out when of her hands grabbed his ass and her nails seemingly sank into him.

Her breasts heaved against him as their bodies moved, trying to find a rhythm, never quite on the same page as the other; he nipped and bit wherever he could; her skin, scarred and welted earlier, was marred with teeth marks and new blood. Her breath hitched; her head snapped back and she whined deep in her throat, her legs twitching around him, her hips throwing him off-balance; he came with a few short thrusts more, her walls still rippling around his cock.

They were both out of breath. The water beat down on them, rinsing away their blood and sweat, the steam rising around them; it was a moment out of time, a slight pause, a break from the chaos of their lives. After that moment, Steve pulled himself out; Natasha unwound her legs from around him and he set her down gently. He was gentle as he washed her hair for her. Her touch was light as she washed his back, mindful of the new injuries she had given him as well as the old. As Steve turned off the water, Natasha took the only towel in the room. She smirked back at him as she dried herself and then tossed the wet towel at him. He shot her a look of mingled disbelief and amusement, but used it anyway.

In the bedroom, she was putting her phone on the nightstand. “One hour. Catnap or whatever, then we’ve got to move. Don’t want to stay in one place for too long.”

“Yeah, I like my apartment unexploded…”

Natasha smirked at him. “Your vocabulary decreases exponentially post-orgasm. Fascinating.”

He lay next to her, waving her comment off. The icy knot in his chest had loosened somewhat, his worries and fears set aside for this short time; Natasha looked over at him, her Widow mask slipping in this moment. She was just as conflicted about what would come next. She pushed his hair back lightly with her fingers, and they stayed there as she nodded off. Steve smiled, for just a moment. They’d do whatever they needed to, just as they always did.

No regrets.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> http://initiala.tumblr.com


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